The Creation Of A New World
by MetaLucario
Summary: "We can create a new world together, one where we can be accepted, not considered abnormal." AU. Alduin comes back a little ealier, as in before the actual storyline. He discovers the protaganist being raised by her abusive parents in a city in morrowind. When he rescues her from the torment and raises her as his own she runs away in a fit, but is skyrimall it promises to be? r
1. Chapter 1

I watched her flounce down the street as though she owned it. Her jet black hair the perfect contrast to the pure white of her skin, bright watery eyes wide with unkempt excitement. Three years old about to see her first dragon, pointed little elf ears peeking out from behind her flowing locks. This was the girl who caused me so much pain, the dragon trapped in the body of a mortal, my little dovahkin. She bound down the streets excitedly yellow eyes shining with delight at the sight of the small brown dragon at the edge of the forest, not even caring that it wiped out every single guard there. She bounced down the path eagerly then plopped down not two feet from the fight, not even seeing me hovering behind the forest, watching and examining her every move. She hadn't changed at all from last time. Same calm demeanor, and powerful aura as always, as she watched the guards work. I signaled my partner and he stopped fighting, and caused quite a scene. Yowling realistically with an over perfect limp, pretending to favor his right wing. I saw the outrage on her face as they continued attacking the 'poor creature' despite his "yield." I used my thu'um to form a phrase in front of her feet in a bright, flowing script. She looked at it forming the words in her tiny little mouth reaching down at it experimentally, yelping when the words shot up a light which then circled her, and ingrained itself in every inch of her ancient mind.

Gently I pried into her mind to share my knowledge of the particular shout, before urging her to use it, testing if I was right. Seeing if she was who I thought she was. I was _almost _surprised when she cried out. "_**Fus… Ro… Dah." **_Her powerful voice echoing through the clearing, causing all the guards to collapse in a puddle of separated body parts. One word filled my mind as I saw the power behind her unrelenting force. That one word was _perfect._


	2. Chapter 2

A/N So apparently there was confusion about who the characters were in the first half chapter; for future reference the story is a vignette from two pov's : alduin has odd sections, Kurai Tsuki-the dovahkiin-has evens. The brownish red dragon battling the guards was ohdahviing.

Also this story will follow the canon story line except for: the parts with alduin, the background of how the dovahkiin got to skyrim, and a secret side plot you will discover later.

I own nothing but a copy of the game just so you all know. I made up some shouts for the purpose of the story.

-Chapter Two-

I sat huddled in a corner, warm salty liquids streaming down my cheeks in a frenzy to escape my tortured body. The hot throbbing in my calf, and the warmth of my blood on my bare arms was not much comfort.

"You can't be my daughter you freak! You draw to much attention as it is, and now you kill half the town with your pitiful voice! Worthless scum! I am not your father there is no way in oblivion that the gods are this cruel." The oversized dunmer stood threateningly in front of me, his imposing height, and the tightly gripped blood soaked dagger striking fear into my very core.

There was a loud sound like an angry roar, and the roof suddenly combusted in an array of violent sparks. To a three year old this was the most frightening thing in the world, and I was no exception; frozen in a corner curled tightly in a ball and crying so hard that my eyes began to sting confused as to what in the oblivion was happening. If I could run I would've, for all the good it would do me in the current situation. I nearly screamed when a large reptilian head emerged from the flame, his scales black as night, sharper than a newly forged sword. A bright amber slit eyed me cautiously before turning to my fathers crumpled form.

"You dare mock that which you don't understand! Foolish mortal, you don't even know what you are dealing with." The creature's voice was low and menacing, and belied a power beyond his obvious brute strength. "You, foolish mortal, have offended the dov. By desecrating what is rightfully ours you have brought your own destruction. You will pay for your arrogance, mortal._Yol… toor shol!" _I watched as the grey dunmer skin combusted much the same way as the thatched ceiling had earlier. Flesh melted into bone, and simmered in the sheer heat. Even as children dunmer are generally not very squeamish, and having the soul of a dragon (whether you are aware of having it or not) is quite an aid in sadistic thoughts; so, of course, the sight wasn't what frightened me. The dragon's gaze had turned to me. The burning fury in his eyes was what scared me in that moment.

"Are you able to walk child?" the same menacing voice from earlier was now somewhat softer and the fury melted away from the reptiles gaze. My shock must have been obvious for the creature laughed and added "I'm sure this night has been too eventful for such a young child. Come I will explain this situation later, for now let me see to your leg there. Tuz Vaaz Slen, Sahqon Rahgol Nau

Qeth blade cut your skin, and crimson rage covers your bones dragon-born._Mul_

_Laas Kogaan." _I watched fascinated as the flesh on my legs sewed its self back together, muscle and bone knitting into place, bloody returning to vein, and as I watched this I wondered; what in the oblivion is a dragon-born.

I was simply appalled at the way the dunmer treated the child, all over her knowing how to shout! How dare that mortal touch her that way, his arrogance was his undoing. The way she cried that night… not even a dov is that cruel to a child. To bring such a crude weapon to a child's flesh, especially a child with the soul of a dovah… to say the least I was thrown into a blind rage, shouting the ignorant mortal into to the cold oblivion he deserved. I watched the baby dovahkiin with great interest; her reactions were different from mortals and closer to dov younglings'. The way she reacted to the sight of her father's blood was unnatural even for an elf; the interested gleam in that gaze was quite…_different._


	3. Chapter 3

A/N I own nothing but my plot ideas and my dovahkiin character. Still Alive, but barely. I hate finals. Explanation as to why Odahviing looked brown in the first chapter- he was coated in dust from the battle. Anything Familiar belongs to Bethesda. This occurs ten years into the future(from last chapter) next chapter will be HelgenXD…

The soft patter of footfall echoed across the hallway, the only interruptions were the sharp clang of steel and the occasional grunt of the sprinter. As the elf dodged a blast of fire from the front, she knocked down the ice crystal speeding at her from behind, before ending both spell's casters with a quick, precise shot of an arrow through each of their left eyes. Leaving the dead mages behind her she ran, her incredible speed nearly matching that of hawks she sometimes shot down when she caught sight of one soaring near enough to home. As she ran she pulled out a small dagger, the cruel looking point and crude shape accented by the sharp red glow of the fire enchantment enacted upon it. She crept slowly up to the next person in sight, knife at the ready. Before they could sense anything to be amiss she plunged the daedric weapon into the soft flesh on the side of the body, watching the dark crimson flow out, darkening the folds of the neatly pressed blue of the robes, watched the nord's skin shrivel up, turning a sickening red-brown. She admired the light of the flame as it ate the man's flesh away, then left without a word, though not before looting the bodies of any valuables present. Then silent as a mouse, she walked out the door- only to find two more mages outside. Just as she unsheathed the second knife from her boots and prepared to slice the head of the nearer of the two- a breton, female, young- the second was enclosed in the great maw of a very large, very familiar dragon. The elf sliced off the breton's head leaving nothing but a pile of mangled gore before turning to the crimson reptile.

"Odahviing!" she sped strait for him, relief accenting the clear alto of her voice, "you're late."

"Drem Yol Lok Fahliil, the magic-wielders aus him bah, suffer your wrath. Come dovahkiin, we have much more work to do before we can return to Elsewhere for the night." The deep, gravely tone of his voice was soothing yet belied his hotheaded nature. Knowing this particular dov he would rather be slaughtering a village of adept mages than flying me off to watch me clear mages and bandits out of potential rest-places. "Where to next, a random kaaz village perhaps? I would enjoy a chance to krii, kill"

"One more stop first. I have to finish my 'chores'." The drip of sarcasm in her tone was unnecessary, they both new the truth: she enjoyed killing to an extent that was quite unhealthy and she constantly reminded him of the fact. She hoisted herself onto his scaled neck and they headed for the next destination.

-two hours later-

The softly loud bustle of great wings followed by a padded skidding sound indicated the duo's landing in front of this frostfall's 'home'- a bandit camp cleared out several days ago, the bodies had been burnt so badly that nothing was left save some ashes on the lush grass. There was a gloomy cavern underneath the hillock large enough to house five dragons-assuming they didn't all kill each other- that currently housed two and a quarter, the 'quarter' of course being the now 14 year old dragonborn, as well as her pet saber cat. As they landed outside of the hide out the sound of an angered dov met them from inside, the other resident had lost patience with his second in command for some reason or another, but calmed enough to act civil with Odahviing when the little elf brought in some new captives- product of the raiding of a village. The dead calm of Alduin's voice warned the other dov of later punishment before he turned to the dunmer in question. A quick examination of her appearance- her exuberant black curls and leathery armor were darkened with blood, and she had a small cut on her cheek from an arrow meant to kill- showed that she had finish her chores, and definitely had spent a little extra time so as to enjoy the battles with the somewhat more difficult foes. She turned to the dark of the tunnel branching right to enter into her personal chambers, bathe, and change into some necromancy robes she'd nicked off a clothing shop the previous week when the world eater turned and stopped her with a "Wait right there-you're not done yet". His tone warned against any argument so she stayed where she was for two seconds before heading back, cautiously, to where he sat. His pose was regal, but still intimidating enough that not even Molag Bal himself would have bothered with the world-eater as he sat there. "Tsuki, tell me what do you know of _daedra,"_ the word was spit from his mouth as though it were an animal he discovered to taste toxic after taking a bite out of the head, his obsidian jaws parted for a second before he continued " but I mean a certain Kulaan, the _madgod_ as he calls himself."

"Sheogorath? The daedric prince who taught the men and elves of music by ripping a woman open and making instruments of her bones? What is it you mean in asking me master? Please don't say we are going to wage a war on _him._ He'd rip out my entrails in a heart-beat, and possibly eat them for dinner later on." There was no joking in her tone, all deathly fear and curiosity.

"He appeared on top of the cave opening and asked of your location earlier zaam, claiming he had marked you as his next champion." As he said it the furious glow of those horrible ruby eyes intensified, and a certain possessiveness overtook his voice. "yes I intend to declare war on him, but you my little elf, will be staying behind with Odahviing. He might be extremely rash but I cannot trust any of the other dov with your care. I leave for the Shivering Isles tomorrow, and no complaints." Tsuki was under the impression that it must be more important than he let on if he actually bothered to stick with her native language for such a period of time, and decided not to try and convince him out of it. Besides, Odahviing was great company and held decent conversation. Most days. "also the two of you are moving to Cyrodil for the rest of frostfall. The last place he would bother to look for you is where he found his last champion; he would not suspect me of sending you there." Even as he said it Tsuki saw bright yellow cat eyes gleaming out at her from the dark of the hall, but they disappeared before she could get another look. -

Later than she expected to she stepped into the 'bath' a hollowed out side-cave with a deep, low floor complete with running water. The stream often flooded into the chamber at just the perfect time for bathing, and the warm temperatures of Elsewhere guaranteed there would not be any icy or chunky water. As she lay in the water, the same eyes she had seen earlier peeked out from behind a crevice-almost sheepish in their appearance. Tsuki turned to the glow of the yellow orbs and proceeded to throw a brush in the direction. "Kurai, you worthless feline…!" the glossy gold of the sabercat's pelt glowed under the soft luminescence of the candle light orb attached brilliantly to the ceiling. The large feline stalked up to the edge of the indoor pond, dipped its paw in playfully, and proceeded to scoop the water in a playful splash towards the elf's head. Kurai let out a satisfied purr when Tsuki proceeded to scratch her softer fur behind the ear, then nuzzled her neck. Kurai's nose was cold from the moisture secreted on it through one of her many little glands, and left a slimy wetness that wasn't all together unpleasant. A softer padding alerted both that it was high time to get out before the rain flooded the whole chamber, with them still in it. As Tsuki and Kurai exited the door the whole place filled up with fresh rain water, leaving her private rooms smelling light and fresh as the clear moisture mixed in with the air. She pulled the velvety black out of her wardrobe (left behind by the bandits), and started to pull them up over her head when something fell out with a thud. She kneeled down to examine the object when a chill ran down her spine. Someone was here. Someone left this in her clothing. A quick glance at the object in question confirmed her fears. She ran outside to go inform Alduin, but was stopped by Odahviing who said that the other had already left, and that they were to head out to Cyrodil in three hours. Tsuki then hastily explained what she found, and Odahviing changed it to that very instant. Tsuki hastily packed her every possession into one little satchel, hoisted Kurai into a convenient little harness that attached perfectly around the red dragons torso. She hoisted herself onto his back leaving the object lying there in the floor, completely untouched. It gave a shudder as though it recognized this act of rejection, then lay still carved wooden face staring up blankly at the ceiling as though it thought the glittering brown of the cave to be a mockery.

Leaves you wondering doesn't it?XD

Tsuki means Moon

Kurai means darkness

Zaam-slave, Fahliil-elf,

R&R


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hey people, I'm back! Ok clearly more people like this fic than my others, but I intend to finish my other Elder scrolls fic. I figured I'd update now when most everyone else is on vacation and not updating. That may be the cause of my lacking reviews, or it could be that (mostly) people don't like it. I don't really know either way but that update is coming along soon as well. Ok Helgen…. Well there's a major twist here, but you may figure it out.

Tsuki was running. Ohdahviing was busy holding off the mad god. They hadn't been clever enough. He found them already. She had to get out, to find where… that was the Skyrim border ahead. That was where she said she would wait if her and Alduin ever were separated and couldn't find each other. She sped up, inhaling sharply before…

"_Wuld Nah Kest!" _She practically flew forward. She was almost there. She had hope now. Something to cling to. She repeated the shout as soon as she was able, blindly sprinting forth in a whirlwind of fury. She was so intent on her goal that she missed sight of the boulder in front of her; Tsuki fell flat on her face with a sickening thud. The last thing she saw before the black clouding her vision took over was an interesting scene. There was a man; his face was blurry, but she could see that he was blonde- most likely a nord. He had a strange type of blue armor, one she had never seen before, and a burly demeanor.

"Are you all right?" The nord asked. Tsuki couldn't move her mouth; her answer would not come out. She started to panic. When the nord realized that she could not answer, or even move he turned to a brown-haired person behind him. "Ulfric we have to help her. If those imperials find her it won't be pretty."

The brunette's (Ulfric's apparently) face was the last thin she saw and then she was out.

"Oh your finally awake, I thought you would sleep right through this. You were trying to cross the border weren't you?" the same blonde man who's face she'd earlier was looking at her with worry. "You fell right into the ambush with us. Sorry I couldn't get you out of there." His height was immense. Even sitting he was at least three times her height. Of course, she was barely fourteen, but gods that was unnatural. These nords were the tallest race she had ever seen. Of course, she couldn't remember seeing any other races before. She couldn't remember anything. Not even her name.

"I don't remember. I Know I was heading towards some border, but I don't remember anything before that. I don't even know why I was heading there." She tried desperately to work through the cloud in her mind. She couldn't bust through no matter how she tried or what she did. She started to panic once more. Who was she? She remembered that she was frantically running from something, but what or who was it? She paid Ulfric and the blonde man no mind. She didn't even notice the dark haired horse-thief talking frantically. She was lost in her own head, not sure what was going on, and incapable of navigating the depths of her own head. She snapped to attention when she caught hold of the word execution. Somehow, she knew what _that_ was. To say that Tsuki was afraid was an understatement. Had she ever been afraid before? She couldn't tell. She watched the dark haired man fall with an arrow between his ribs as the red-clad nords called them forward for execution. She held her resolve and forced herself to look calm. It clearly worked as Ulfric looked at her as though she was a ghost and the 'imperial'' man in front of her looked over pityingly. Clearly she must have been a resolute person before, some one trained to deal with any problem. And clearly, she must have been held in high regard because she certainly did not enjoy the pity. When the man called her forward and asked her of her name, she tried desperately to remember. Watching her eyes screw up in concentration, thoughtful yet panicking, he told her it was alright if she didn't have one, then promised in a sorrow filled voice to return her remains to Morrowind. She nodded to him as a silent thanks before proceeding to where the other prisoners were already lined op, waiting for the headsman. She couldn't hold her contempt back as the priestess said something about 'commending their souls to aethereus'. So she was clearly arrogant. Or the person who raised her was at any rate. Tsuki noted her satisfaction at the gore when the red-headed man practically through himself on the block. She watched fasinated as his head came clean off of his neck. The blood that spilled out coated the ground around him in a three foot radius. That amused her greatly. Ok she was most definitely a sadist. That kind of scared her a little, but by the oblivion it made sense somehow. The officer lady called up the "mini-elf". Tsuki new that was referring to her, and was about to take a step when all of a sudden there was a load, angry roar. Clearly from a very large creature, a very pissed off, very angry, very massive creature. The nords clearly were afraid but they went on ahead anyway. The nord woman called her up again, slightly impatient now. She sat there silently, waiting for the headsman to step forward. She watched in silence, and as she watched time seemed to slow around her. She hurried to take in every detailed before she died. She took in the hesitation the headsman showed about killing a mere child. Took in the Massive size of the keep. Took in the sight of the large reptilian creature on top of the tower. _Wait… dragon on the tower._ She didn't even bother to figure out where she'd learned that it was even called a dragon. It looked very familiar some how, like she'd known it, known and befriended for a long time. She barely noticed when it yelled at the headsman, causing him to collapse, dead. She sat there in shock until it yelled something similar yet shorter at her. She came off the chopping block, entirely unharmed. The dragon was busy frying any nord that dared to come within a five foot radius. It didn't fry that Ulfric person, or Ralof as blondie was apparently named. She bypassed those two, running strait for the red-headed man from ealier. The dragon called something out to her. Something that sounded familiar.

"It sounded as though it was calling you something. Did that word sound familiar?" Hadvar questioned her once they made it to the keep. "It could've been your name." He pulled a little roughly on the ropes binding her hands, apologizing quickly as he did so.

"It sounded very familiar. I think that might have been. _Tsuki_. It fits doesn't it?" She found a dagger in her boots. It looked familiar. Clearly the soldiers outside missed it when they'd searched her earlier. She was dressed in full on black armor. It looked specially crafted. " The weirdest part is that I almost recognized the dragon out there. It seemed familiar, comfortable. As though I knew it from somewhere…" Hadvar gave her a confused look.

"Do you think you may have been running from it before your capture?"

"No. I think I was running to try and find it." She knew that she'd seen it before. The angry recognition in its eyes when it saw her on the chopping block was easily noticed. It seemed like a protective possessiveness. She promised herself then and there that she would try to find out in the future, but for now she would help this man escape. She would leave and let the dragon burn the place down. If a few nords died then so what. She couldn't care less so long as she got what she wanted


	5. Chapter 5

A/N not certain where to go with this, but with everyone pressing for me to post I figured I probably should. Tell me what you want to see more of in later chapters, I will try to comply. Thank you all for the positive comments; I will try to keep this story interesting for you guys. I will post more regularly after I sort through the tangled mass of ideas in my mind… It is taking longer than I expected, especially when I discover new details of the game every time I play… I do have a lighter story that I will post later this year sometime, as a break from all the dreary depressing stuff I normally post. I hope no one minds my sadistic sense of humor too much, but I will try to work on different styles of writing from now on. Anyway, for those who are interested I have a forum open where you are encouraged to critique/ help with/whatever you want to do to help me improve my stories to better suit your own wants, its open for all to join.

Enjoy XD :-P

"So what do we call you then, if you don't know your name?" The woman that Hadvar called his aunt asked in a warm, yet guarded manner.

The dunmer being questioned was uncertain. She thought of several names with Hadvar while the auburn haired nord led her out of the keep, but none seemed to fit right. The man was odd, he suggested the name Lleia, while she beheaded three blue clad warriors with a blood lusting fervor. She decided while they were escaping the dank dungeon that she found the nord rather annoying, his name choices were strange and foreign sounding to her ears. And he talked constantly… gods the man could ramble. She quit listening after the first minute. She ran through the ideas again: Faria, Rulsa, and Ericai, all of wich sounded quite Nordic and highly unappealing. She toyed with some ideas in her mind. After thinking for three seconds, she came up with a possibility.

"Aewen." She said quietly. A short, simple, elven name that would not be to obvious or uncommon. The family started talking again, and Aewen grew bored. She mulled over those few hours of memory she had. The man had been rather annoying, but she at least had the ability to take her anger out on anything that came close to where they were. The spiders stood no chance, she saw them before reaching the cavern they inhabited. One well-aimed bolt of fire ended them easily enough, toasting the webs, and legs of the eerie creatures. She learned more about herself from that experience, as she instinctively cast an array of colorful magic at the various enemies encountered. She found a weapon inside of her boot that was well crafted, heavily enchanted, and very, very sharp. She discovered that she was capable of lifting a great sword, and severing the limb of anyone foolish enough to come near, and that she could shoot a Luna moth in the eye from twenty feet away with even the dullest bow. She discerned from her abilities exactly this much: she was clearly trained by some master of combat, hard driven towards violent, instinctual, reactions. At one point Hadvar even backed off in fear, as she sat coated in a thick layer of blood, laughing maniacally. She itched to go somewhere, to do something; she was tired of hearing these insolent nords rant nonstop about things that seemed rather trivial. If some political leader betrayed the high king, why didn't they just break in and end his life while he slept? Complaining wouldn't help the matter. She got up to go, ignoring them as she walked out the door and into the street, walking along until she found a two-story building with a curious sign hanging off of the awning. She walked inside, to find another boring conversation. She cleared her throat as the two imperials argued over something she had no interest in. The man turned towards her, clearly frustrated, and tried to convey a smile that came out more as a grimace.

"What can I interest you in, I've got few supplies at the moment with the war and all." His voice was quite obnoxious, but she squashed down her own annoyance to ask about a wide variety of objects in the shop. She walked out three minutes later with a sack of ale, and a stack of books. She doesn't feel like heading back to the blacksmith's little shack, so she heads off to see about this "inn" everyone keeps mentioning. The Breton at the counter raises one blond eyebrow in confusion at the sight of the tiny dunmer entering her well maintained tavern, armed to the teeth with large serrated weapons twice the mer's own size, a stack of books balanced perfectly on one pale arm, and a satchel slung haphazardly across her sickly thin shoulder; not to mention the sack she was lifting carelessly. And even with the extreme load the child still had an expression of bored indifference as she calmly asked for a room, and tossed a handful of septims from around her books. Delphine, as she introduced herself, led Aewen calmly to a room. She was confused by the disdainful elf, and more than curious about her strange load. When the girl opened the sack and proceeded to down a bottle of ale with out so much as a pause, then plopped comfortably on the bed and opened a book, silently flipping through the pages with an intrigued look. Delphine swore she recognized something about the mer, but could not recall exactly why.

Aewen gave the innkeeper an annoyed look of dismissal, and the Breton walked out in a huff. The blade sat behind the counter of her inn with a perplexed expression, trying to puzzle out where she had seen this child before. She twitched restlessly behind the counter as she worked it out, finally recalling what was so familiar about the small creature reading silently in her room…

Aewen sat reading some old book of myths about daedra, and drinking the alcohol stored in her rugged sack. The liquid had yet to affect her in the slightest. She reached into the sack to find nothing but rough leather and coarse spun wool. She was out of ale. She silently put down the book and picked the next up, only to realize that it was the last book in the stack as well. She silently shoved them in the sack and blew the small flicker of flame out of the lantern on the end table, tucking the warm quilted blanket around her small frame. She leaned back, and curled up into a tiny, cat-like, ball. Her breath evened, and her eyelids lowered gently, soft lashes brushing her snow-flushed cheeks.

Delphine lay back against the wall of her own secret room, tracing the swirled pattern on the metal of her war hammer. She shuddered when she thought of that elf staying in her inn. She had doubts that the child even remembered her, but the thought that she could was quite chilling. She had been on the run from the thalmor, hiding low in elsweyr for a few months until they forgot about her. Delphine still recalled the warmth of the sand, and the trickling of the scanty river in the depth of a nearby "forest". The sun was setting, washing the sky with thin, watery layers of soft pinks and oranges. She had barely escaped from a horde of trolls, when a saber cat suddenly tackled her. Upon drawing her sword a small dunmer child stalked up in a predatory manner, ebony locks flowing carelessly around her head; a halo of darkness. It was not the sight of the unusually undersized elf-child that caught her attention that night, but the long, serrated, ebony sword held firmly in her grasp, and the cold, sadistic gleam in those pale vermillion eyes. There was someone else nearby, male, with a very deep, unnatural voice. He said something to her in a strange tongue and the child proceeded to stab the breton's leg, and liver. The voice called out something else, and the child tilted her head the tinniest fraction before responding. It was a cruel sounding language, cruel and ancient and powerful, and it sent a shiver down the young blades spine listening to it, and for good reason. That language, she was certain, was not elvish, nordic, kajiit, argonian, or evenly remotely like any she had heard. No, she had been certain back then, and was still certain to this day that it was no language of any race that walked the ground of nirn. It was that of the very creatures she was sworn to destroy, by her honor as a blade. She just hadn't truly believed that they really existed until then, and no one else would know. After all, who would believe a blonde warrior who ran through a city claiming she saw a large winged creature the color of ebony, and smoke carrying a small child on its back? Who would believe her tales of seeing a dragon, large crimson eyes blazing at her in unkempt hatred as he commanded a tiny little dunmer to kill, in some tongue of his own kind? Who would believe her if she said the dragonborn was sleeping in this very tavern, and that she knew the dunmer was not planning on saving the world.

Who would believe that she was housing a menace, one who would murder them all for the sake of pleasing an ages old deity who deigned to destroy this world and all who dwelt on it? Absolutely no one would believe it. And Delphine had to accept that fact…

The next day Aewen left calmly, remembering something the man who ran the store had told her about a claw, and some barrow. She spotted it on the overlooking mountain and stared to head off in that very direction with a calm demeanor, when she noticed her stomach growling. She promptly headed back to the in and stoically pay the unusually frightened Breton for a sweet roll, and some provisions for the next few days. When she decided that her pack was sufficiently full of food, potions, and soul gems she headed out the door, muttering to herself about frightened innkeepers. She let out a chuckle when the breton jumped at her sudden yanking open of the door.

Three large iron doors into the damnable crypt she'd been heading through for the past several hours, Aewen finally found the thrice-damned claw thief tangled in a large mass of spider silk. Rather than cut him out of the disgustingly sticky substance as he asked her to she merely reached up and put a sword through his abdomen, marveling as it cut easily through his soft flesh. It was satisfying to finally stab trough the hard bone of his vertebral cord, and sever the stringy nerves with a sickeningly enjoyable snap. As she pulled out the daedric weapon she watched his blood splurt out from his body in a wide arch. She had a sudden thought that she couldn't explain. An image of the blonde innkeeper from Riverwood in a similar position, under her same blade, bleeding. Another detail yet even more strange filtered through. She saw the same dragon that had burned down Helgen was there watching. Aewen blinked in confusion and shook herself from her dazed state calmly, thinking that it was not possible for that to have happened as the woman was clearly still alive and running her own tavern. _Tsuki_, an oddly familiar voice echoed in her head. She shook her head once more to clear it, and continued walking through the gods forsaken crypt. She stooped low to the ground as the arachnids finally came with in her line of vision. Within seconds she had fired enough shots from her bow to fell every last one of the foul creatures, each arrow notched in the bow perfectly before being sent on its journey through the dank air, flying over in a perfect arch and lodging in the cental eyes of an eight-legged menace. Still crouching, she rolled softly through the passageway, knocking two more draugr down with arrows before they even had a chance to awaken, and leave their respective stone slabs. Soon enough she found a door with a keyhole that looked suspiciously like the claw she was holding. Several draugr and a troll later she arrived in a room with stairs that inclined steeply up to the central part of the room. She spied one more ebony colored casket, as well as some sort of wall with a glowing word on it in some language that seemed familiar. She headed forward, avoiding the casket for the moment, to check out the strange glowing inscription. She could swear she'd seen it before- memory came flooding back, a word on the ground before her, guards sent flying away from something that looked suspiciously like a dragon. She stepped forward, her curiosity barely contained. She reached forward and touched the wall, the word surging forward and wrapping her in a bright sheathing of swirling blue light. Memories of similar words came flooding back, but not much else. Still, these words seemed important. They all seemed so familiar, like she'd done far more than hear them spoken. No, more like she had spoken this herself, fluently, before she hit her head. _Tsuki, Tsuki!_ The voice in her head was more persistent now, growing steadily louder. Once more she shook her head and headed towards the casket, ready to battle whatever undead creature lay within.

He calmly walked through, uncertain of this clumsy form he rarely ever used. He was cursing in many languages, by the time he found the dead man, blood and spinal fluid pooled out around the body in an erratic fashion. Upon spying the gory mess of glimmering crimson fluid he laughed. She had definitely been through here. Just because her memories were gone did not mean she had lost her touch, not at all. He knew he was getting closer, he could smell, could literally feel her presence. He kept walking till he reached the room he was looking for, and stood calmly in the archway of the door. He watched as her fingers found the etchings on the word wall, and she jolted backwards, pale yellowish orange eyes flooded with memory. He channeled his voice into her mind, _Tsuki, Tsuki!_ and watched as she shook it off, proceeding to prepare for battle with the draugr death-overlord he knew was in there. He watched, and he waited.

Aewen stalked forward, greatsword drawn, and waited for the lid to come off of the casket. The second the draugr had lifted the iron topping off she had proceeded to slash at it relentlessly. It was clear now that this was no ordinary draugr, oh no this was an overpowered bundle of diehard undead creature. It sat up, staring at her with those eerily glowing cerulean eyes, and started to take a deep breath.

"Fus…Ro…Dah" Aewen went flying,, absolutely weightless, and crashed hard into the wall where the glowing word had been; her head thumped against something sharp, and she couldn't focus through the burning sting of warm blood trickling down her scalp, but she swore she heard a crunch. She groaned in pain, incapable of getting up. _Stop wallowing in your self-pity. Pity is for the weak, something that you aren't._ Ok, she definitely wasn't imagining it. There was a voice in her head.

She heard footsteps and the familiar clang of steel against rotting flesh. Resolve flooded through her and she some how managed to lift her hand to her head, surrounding it in a soft golden glow. Aewen sat up once the spell took hold. She reached and pulled a large red potion, and a smaller emerald one out of her pack. She downed both easily, and got to her feet, looking around to see who had stepped in to attack the creature. Her apparent hero appeared to be locked in fierce combat with the damnable thing, and Aewen walked around unseen, to stand behind the accursed draugr, and calmly shove a dagger in its head. The undead opponent now gone, she turned to look at her supposed rescuer. Shock filled the elf gaze upon realizing that while he looked familiar, she wasn't certain she knew him… She could swear she had seen him before…

_A/N:Haha, a cliffy. :-p. thanks for reading. R&R please2_


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Sorry about the wait, you know studying and projects and all that junk. On top of that, I've been watching black butler, and my next fanfic may be cielXsebastion or something. Strangest part is Sebastian reminds me of that human version of Alduin that people like me always fantasize over. For those of you who are curious to check search Sebastian michaelis on Google images… He is quite the perfect character for fangirling over…. And he has an appetite for souls….. That seems to be attractive somehow, considering the fan base. Anyway, I'm getting way off topic- here is the new chapter, hope you like it

PS: shout out to Kurogawa Yumi and Decepticon-silverstreak for being awesome and making a point to review everything I put out, you two are awesome!

I own nothing btw (except plot and oc's of course)

"You are quite difficult to track down; I hope you know how much of a problem you've been." The voice and face were male and somewhat familiar, but Aewen could not place them. A very tall man like that, with such a deep booming voice… with something not quite elvish or human about him. "I have need of your help for something. But first I will have to wait for you to regain you memory, and I intend to help in anyway at all possible." He was glowing bluish-white now, a ghost then. The blue flickered back to flesh. "As you can see, I am a ghost who has gained a semblance of a body; I was told I'd need one to find you. It appears that was so. After you finish your business here, travel to the city of Windhelm, there you will meet a boy named Aventis. He wants some one dead; you will kill that person and take your place in a new family. They may offer some protection while you are unsure of yourself." He reached forward his hand, cordially offering to seal the meeting with a shake of his lightly tanned flesh. Aewen took his hand and shook gently, nodding to him politely, before inquiring of his name.

"Lucian," he said calmly, "Lucian Lechance, former speaker of the Dark Brotherhood." And with that, he lifted the hood of his robes up over his face, and vanished, leaving an odd pile of blue-hued dust that emitted a surreal, eerie glow.

Aewen looted everything that seemed to be of value, before heading to the odd little town from earlier, and gave the claw back to the queer man who ran the general store. She ran into that imperial soldier who helped her escape from the dragon attack earlier, while on the way out of the shop. An awkward silence fell between them, blanketing the very air around them until it felt like they were both suffocating from lack of oxygen. Hadvar coughed, breaking the silence, and excused himself to go help his uncle with the forge. Aewen headed back to the inn, and the breton woman questioned her on where that odd stone tablet came from. Aewen explained smugly that she got it in a crypt, as that was the only place such objects could be found, talking in a measured voice to make certain the blonde understood. Delphine was too frightened to take offence, and offered to buy the stone for five-hundred septims. Aewen sold it to her, not certain of the use for it, and offered to escort the woman to Whiterun. Apparently said breton needed to speak with a "court wizard" whatever the oblivion that was, and Aewen was bored. Delphine looked like she was ready to simply fall over and die where she stood, and kept flashing odd looks at the elf. Aewen chuckled to herself.

"Are you afraid of a child, or merely afraid of letting one get hurt? You won't have to worry, I can handle myself. I simply need to head there myself, and don't quite know the way." Aewen tilted her head slightly, acting as innocent a dark elf ever could. It was quite a show, Delphine handed her a pack without question, and started out the door… Aewen had a job now.

Aewen went in with Delphine to meet this Farengar person, who eagerly commended her and paid her for finding the stone Delphine had been so excited about. Aewen asked for a few rare conjuration spells, and asked if the wizard was fine with her using his arcane enchanter. The man and Delphine stood by, watching her enchant a brand new daedric sword she'd found at Lucan Valerius's shop. Farengar praised her expertise, and Delphine seemed edgy. Aewen expressed her need to find the carriage; she needed a method of travel if she wanted to reach Windhelm after all. That seemed the most likely one, and she didn't know the way herself. Farengar asked Aewen if she would speak to the Jarl first, and Delphine left back to Riverwood. Aewen was about to head out and find the man she was supposed to talk to, when a commotion broke out. She heard roars off in the distance, and remembered the dragon from Helgen watching from the skies as she walked to the city with Delphine. The "Jarl" instructed her to go help fight, and Aewen felt rather annoyed, planning on just hiring the carriage and leaving the damned nords to die, when she discovered the wooden object in question shattered and flaming, one wheel trapped under the rubble from a stable. The horse was fine, except for the blood from where it had been impaled by a falling rafter, and the scab-like burn marks that marred the left half of his body, and the missing leg. The driver appeared to be buried under the rubble. She saw the warriors fighting nearby; this was a different dragon than the one she saw before. That much was obvious from the start. A pillar of pure flame erupted from its mouth. Aewen rolled swiftly out of the way, hitting it through both eyes with daedric arrows as she did. Blood began to quickly squirt out of its eyes with a pleasantly sickening squelch. The massive creature hoisted a guard into the air with titanic jaws, swallowing the poor man whole. Aewen looked around, bored of the fight going on. The dragon seemed to understand that she wasn't to be messed with any way. Her eyes passed slowly over the nearby mountains, elvish vision showing her that the ebony dragon from before was staring at her from atop the nearest peak. Her yellowy vermillion orbs met glowing crimson, and she blinked from the sunlight. She could've sworn the creature looked pleased about something, but she was uncertain quite what that could be and merely unsheathed the pitch and ruby sword, ready to end the nords' struggle. The fact that the guards were losing amused her greatly, but she was bored and needed to find an escort to help her get to Windhelm, now that the carriage wouldn't be happening. She plunged the giant weapon into the creature's weak spot, the softer scales just between the chin and neckline.

What happened next was definitely not, what Aewen had been expecting. She fell backwards in a mixture of ecstasy and agony as every last memory, emotion, and injury the dragon ever had rushed through her. She felt the arrows she'd shot through its… _no his _eyes, felt his misery at being defeated again, felt his jaw move as he spoke his last words.

Aewen's own memories triggered, some of the minor ones. She remembered a similar experience to this that happened once before. Scenes flashed through her mind of stabbing and shooting her way through crypts, bandit hideouts, caves, cities. She sees that black-scaled dragon from before, faintly recalls a name, and then her mind moves on. An entire language sparks back to life from some forgotten corner of her subconscious. Aewen feels a connection to some power deep inside of herself, and before she knows it fire spills out of her own mouth, powerful in it beauteous fury. She catches a glimpse of the dragon on the mountain, looking undoubtedly pleased, and for a second Aewen lets pride take over.

Falling back into the reality of the world around her wasn't as shocking as would be expected, dead bodies piled hopelessly, the only other survivor was a dark elf like her. That made sense, dunmer resist fire without much of a problem. She listens as the older elf rambles in a confused tone about legends and other garbage. This new acquaintance gets cocky, and tries to tell Aewen to head back and speak to the Jarl. Aewen threatens to slaughter the town, imposing and indifferent despite her young age. When the older elf finally flinched away Aewen headed in the direction of the mountains, not even flinching at a summons, she already knew was meant for her as she headed for the place Mr. Lechance had wanted her to go. She walked calmly despite the intensity of the gazes she felt on her back; one of fear and disappointment, the other gloating and proud, and possessive. She ignored both without a second thought, and disappeared into cloudier, snowy weather, without a single backwards glance.

A/N: that came out more easily than I'd been expecting…. R&R kudasai!


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